


Escape

by yeaka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 01:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/628760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco and Theodore escape a party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Escape

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its contents, and I'm not making any money off this.

Draco looks absolutely gorgeous in his dress robes, and ravishingly fuckable without them.

It’s a cool winter night, and the warming spells in the main ballroom reach too far up the stairs. They could cast counter-charms easily, but Theodore doesn’t point this out. Instead, he lets Draco strip down to dress trousers and a white button up before collapsing onto his four-poster bed. Theodore strolls over to it after quietly depositing his own robes over the back of a chair.

“Honestly,” Draco drawls, without really looking at Theodore. “Have you ever experienced anything more boring?”

Theodore sits down carefully on the bed, strategically close—but not suspiciously close—to Draco. “Yes; I’ve had conversations with Parkinson.”

“Hah!” Draco chuckles and rolls his head over. The mirth in his eyes dictates that he’s finally deemed Theodore worthy of attention. Blaise is chatting up the prettier of the female adults downstairs, and Crabbe and Goyle are busy stuffing themselves. It’s supposed to be a holiday dance, but... no one’s really dancing. “That’s not bad, Theo.”

Theodore’s lips quirk up, more at the nickname than the praise. Being cleverer than Draco’s standards isn’t terribly difficult, considering his usual company. He’s acquired no better friends since school. Now that the figurative ice is broken, Theodore casually shifts to lie on his back, stretched out across the green duvet. Draco’s sheets are expectedly luxurious; his whole room is the picture of expensive opulence. But Theodore wouldn’t have guessed at anything else, even after retributions to the Ministry. He pillows his arms back behind his head and finds himself face to face with Draco, only a dozen or so centimeters apart.

Probably due to this closeness, Draco’s voice drops a few decibels, and maybe an octave or two. His eyelids are already half-lowered. “So, Theo... when you suggested slipping away, I assumed you had something more... interesting... in mind?”

Theodore has many interesting things in his mind. Down in the party, he pictured sneaking away, and finding a nice, secluded patch of mistletoe. Kissing Draco breathless under it, maybe pressing him too hard into the wall. Pulling Draco into one of the many side rooms and bending him over a desk. Tying his hands behind his back with tinsel, wrapping him up in ribbon, fucking him under a pine tree. Just the usual stuff—the things that always flitter through Theodore’s mind when those grey eyes meet his. But Theodore’s more realistic than that and figures he’d better start slow.

He shuffles just that tiny bit closer and waits for Draco to protest. Draco’s eyes flutter down to follow the movement, but there is no snarky side-comment.

Theodore turns on his side so he can lean in for a first kiss, and Draco meets him halfway.


End file.
